


Her Own Fate

by JunoInferno



Series: Voyage of Discovery [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Also Sherlock Holmes is in this verse, F/M, Her Handsome Hero AU, OC Child Centric, Time Travel, Voyage of Discovery Verse, i had my own Merlin before the show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 16:05:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6812524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JunoInferno/pseuds/JunoInferno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beatrice and Joseph find themselves back in time to the night of Belle's engagement ball to Gaston. As distasteful an idea as that is, is there an even worse fate in mind for her and can they save Belle from it so history stays on track? Part of the Voyage of Discovery verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Own Fate

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so it's been a while since I had an update for Voyage and I am sorry for that, but this one-off was sort of inspired by Her Handsome Hero and is a little Mother's Day thematic. Imagine it takes place some time in the near future after the current shenanigans are resolved and we've been to Hell and back, i.e. hello Baby Hero. I've tried not to spoil too much of that story if you're following on FF. If you're new to the Voyage verse, just have a good time, I guess. Please let me know what you think and happy reading!

Beatrice pulled the pillow from over her head. Pamela stared at her.

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

“No.” 

“Your grandmother’s meeting-” 

“Look, I’m not in hell, I don’t have to meet with the other Avengers to decide how we’re going to take down Hydra. No, today is the day that I stay in bed, watch TV and maybe later my dad brings me coffee.” 

“Plans have changed,” her nanny insisted. 

“Well, we’ll just see, won’t we?”

* * *

 

Reluctantly getting up, but refusing to dress on principle, Beatrice went down the hall. 

“Mom…” 

Beatrice turned the corner into her former nursery, quickly updated for her new sister. Belle sat in the rocking chair, the infant nuzzled at her-

“Oh, my God, boob.” Beatrice turned to face the wall. 

Belle rolled her eyes. “Are you going to do this every time?” 

“Are you going to just leave that out there?” 

“This is how your sister eats. This is also how you used to eat-” 

“Do we have to talk about that?” 

“You know, someday when you have children-” 

“If.” 

“What’s this?,” Gold asked as he entered. 

Belle shook her head. “She’s being squeamish again.” 

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he said, kissing her on the forehead. He made his way to Belle and the baby. “Hello, little one.” 

“Beatrice, what did you come in for?,” asked Belle. 

She kept her eyes trained on the nursery rhymes painted on the wall. “I want to stay in bed, Pamela says I have to go to some stupid meeting.” 

“It’s the coronation of the Ice and the Summer Princesses, Beatrice. The first in three generations. Grandmother is understandably excited.” 

“And there’s your engagement-” Gold added.

“Engagement?” Beatrice shook her head. “No, that’s not a thing.” 

Belle looked up at Gold. They exchanged looks of concern. 

“Did you two have a fight?,” asked Belle. “Because even your father and I fight-” 

“No, there was no fight. We’re just not engaged.” 

Gold looked back at Belle. “I don’t understand.” 

“They weren’t real proposals. The first one was when he was some sort of weird Khanlock fanfiction mashup and over Hook’s dead body-” 

Gold shook his head. “I see nothing wrong with that.” 

“Rumple…” Belle hissed. 

“The second was sort of just to undermine Hades and get us out of Hell, so…” Beatrice shook her head. 

“Have you discussed this with Joseph?,” Belle asked. 

“It seems fairly obvious.” 

The doorbell rang. 

Belle looked at her husband. “That will be Grandmother, Rumple.” 

“I’ll tell her you’ll be down,” said Gold looking at Beatrice. 

“I’m not getting dressed.” 

Beatrice kept her promise, only adding TARDIS slipper boots to her ensemble. 

“What are you wearing?,” Catherine demanded. 

“Pajamas.” 

Alec looked to his wife. “And here you said no to my novelty tie.” 

“And you do know your fiance is coming over?” 

“Not my fiance.” 

Catherine looked at Belle. “What does she mean not her fiance?” 

“It’s complicated, Grandmother.” 

“No, it’s rather simple. Either Joseph is in the ceremony as the Future Consort of the Ice Princess or he’s nothing and he’s not.” Catherine eyed Beatrice. “Don’t think just because you’ve gotten engaged all the work’s done.” 

“Not engaged.” 

The doorbell rang. 

“That will be Joseph.” Gold looked at Beatrice questioningly. 

“Are you daring me?” 

He narrowed his eyes at her. He knew his daughter well, her taste from fashion came from both of her parents, but her obsession with appearance was definitely from him. “I don’t think you will.” 

“Watch me.” 

He silently dared her as Belle rolled her eyes. Catherine watched in dismay. Beatrice made her way to the stained glass doors as she heard a call from the kitchen. Pamela quickly appeared in the doorway. 

“What on Earth do you suppose you’re doing?!” 

“Answering the door.” 

“Not like that you aren’t.” 

A snap of her fingers sent a bolt of magic in front of Beatrice. 

“I don’t think so,” said Beatrice, waving her hand to form an ice wall in front of Pamela. 

“Not in the house,” sighed Rumple. 

“You said no fireballs.” 

Beatrice opened the door.  Joseph stood at the door. 

“Have I come too early?” 

“Nope. This is how I dress now. Problem?” 

“None.” 

Catherine cleared her throat. “Perhaps we ought to go over the guest list…” 

* * *

Belle entered Beatrice’s bedroom. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey.” 

Belle sat on the edge of the bed and toyed with the lamb. “Do you need to talk?” 

“No.” 

“You spent over a year devastated at the thought of spending the rest of your life without Joseph. Now that he’s back and you two have the chance to have everything you thought you lost, why are you so distant?” 

“Okay, there is a difference between not wanting someone dead and wanting to marry them.” 

“That’s all? You don’t want him dead?” 

“What is it you people think is going to happen? I’m just going to marry Joseph and we’re just going to live happily ever after? Maybe I don’t want to, maybe I want to have adventures of my own, why don’t I just go off with some guy and have a kid? I’m nineteen, are you crazy?” 

It took a minute for Beatrice to fully catch up to the reality of what she had said. 

“I didn’t-” 

“Things were different in our land, especially for young women, but you’ve been raised here. You’ve never had to face that. I don’t know if it would matter, though, because the only adventures I truly cherish started with Rumple.” She stood up. “I should go check on Hero.” 

* * *

Joseph entered the pawn shop. Gold looked up. 

“So…” Gold stared at Joseph. 

“So…” 

“I believe there’s something we’re both not saying.” 

“Well, assuming we both know what it is, I’m sure my response has already occurred to you-”

“Better to just put the evidence to you then, eh?” 

Gold held out his hand revealing Beatrice’s blue box. 

“Like who might have used this? And where have your houseguests gone?” 

“Back to their realm. Portals are practically a form of contagion these days-” 

“They told me they revealed themselves to you.”  

Joseph shook his head. “Revealed themselves?” 

“As your children.” 

“I don’t know what you-” 

“I have to give you a memory potion-” 

“I am perfectly capable of handling this rationally.” 

“Would you have proposed to Beatrice if you didn’t know?” 

“Eventually.” 

“And so there is the trouble with knowing the future.” 

“Not an argument you put forth when I told you Beatrice’s future. Or have you forgotten?” 

“I took your deal to spare my True Love and our child years of needless torture and pain. The same reason you offered it to me.” 

“I would like the same thing.” 

“You can’t have it.” 

The bell above the shop door rang as Beatrice entered. 

“Beatrice,” said Joseph. 

“Sweetheart,” said Gold. “What brings you to the shop?” 

“Why is my time travel spell out?,” asked Beatrice. 

“I felt a spark of magic and wanted to check on it,” Gold lied. “False alarm.” 

Beatrice took the box from her father and looked at Joseph. 

“What’s going on?” She looked between them. “You aren’t asking for my hand or something, are you?” 

“Certainly not,” said Joseph. 

“Finally, some sanity.” 

“You’re not a commodity,” said Gold. 

“Precisely.” 

“Oh, so everyone had lost their minds. Right,” said Beatrice, stuffing her box in her coat pocket. “I’ll be going then.” 

“Sweetheart, what’s the matter?,” called Gold. 

“Beatrice?,” Joseph called as the door slammed shut. 

* * *

“Beatrice!,” he called, following her down Main Street. 

“Why is it no one can just leave me alone lately?” 

“Because the last time we all did that we ended up in a badly written series of novels. What is wrong?” 

Beatrice stopped and turned on her heel. “Okay, you want to know?” 

“I would hardly have bothered asking if I didn’t and believe me you’re one of the few people that I care about the answer.” 

“Okay, well, your proposals in two realms.” 

“Yes?” 

She shook her head at him. “Why do you keep doing that?” 

“It seems fairly obvious.” 

“What are you? One week off drugs?” 

“A week and a half.” 

“You do not want to marry me!” 

“That seems contrary to everything I’ve been saying. Do you not want to marry me?”  

“What?” 

“Because perhaps you should say no. I can understand no, but I do have to hear it.” 

“I-” Beatrice stammered and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “You have all gone insane.” 

The air began to shake around them. 

“Everyone has just gone crazy around here and I just do not get why no one-” 

“Beatrice, what are you doing?,” Joseph asked, walking over He grasped her by the wrist and they vanished, leaving a blue box in the thawing snow. 

When Beatrice and Joseph looked up, the place they were was decidedly not snowy and decidedly not Storybrooke. 

“Oh, come on, another stupid portal?,” asked Beatrice. “My dad spends three hundred years finding one and then they pop up everywhere.” 

“Your box.” 

“What?” Beatrice turned to face Joseph. 

“You see but you do not observe.” 

“Oh, well, what am I not observing Great Detective?” 

“Your box, Dark Princess. I suppose it’s no longer in your pocket.”

Beatrice crossed her arms. “That’s not an observation, that’s a supposition.” 

“That’s semantics.” 

“Oh, you love semantics.” 

“And you were so upset you managed to transport us back in space and time. Any particular idea where you might have transported us to?” 

“No,” Beatrice scoffed. 

“Really? Because you must have been thinking of it.” 

“Are you alright?,” asked a familiar voice. 

Beatrice’s eyes widened. She and Joseph turned to see Belle sitting atop a brown and white horse wearing a pale blue riding habit. She hopped off the horse. 

“You look as if you’ve had a fright.” 

“Uh-huh…” 

“Pardon her, milady, we were just passing through and our carriage was hijacked by bandits,” said Joseph. “I am Sherlock Holmes. This is-” 

“Lady Mary Crawley,” said Beatrice. 

“Of course you are,” Joseph muttered. 

“How terrible. I’m Lady Belle. Welcome to Avonlea. This is my father’s land.” 

“Right. We should be going,” said Beatrice. 

“Ah, Lady Belle,” said Joseph. “Your grandparents are the Duke and Duchess of Padua, are they not?” 

Belle beamed. “Yes, they are. Do you know them?” 

“We attended their spring fete.” 

“Oh, I do love the Paduan spring fete. You must come back to the castle and tell me about it.” 

“We can’t come to the castle, Sherlock,” said Beatrice. “We must be on our way.” 

“Well, you won’t get very far without a carriage,” said Belle. 

“We would hate to impose.” 

Belle smiled and shook her head. “We’re already full of guests for my engagement party. Two more won’t hurt us. Though you might have to share  my room, Lady Mary.” 

“We-” 

“We would be delighted, Lady Belle,” said Joseph.

* * *

 

“You had to say yes?,” Beatrice hissed as they stood in the hall of Maurice’s castle. 

“Did you make reservations somewhere?” 

“I need to go to Padua. My grandparents have my time travel spell in Padua.” 

“Right, how well do you know your Enchanted Forest geography?” 

“Like you-” 

“We’re a week’s ride from Padua. We’re also about a week from the Dark Castle in case you thought your father was going to help you for absolutely no reason at all. This buys us time.” 

“Did we discuss it?” 

“You didn’t discuss it when you brought us both back in time.” 

“You didn’t have to follow me.” 

They turned to see Belle approaching with her father down the hallway. 

“Why do you know Enchanted Forest geography anyway?,” Beatrice muttered. “You were like three when you left.” 

“Yes, but I was clever.”

“Father, this is Lady Mary Crawley and Sherlock Holmes,” Belle interrupted their argument. “This is my father, Sir Maurice.” 

“My lord,” Sherlock bowed his head. “Thank you so much for letting us into your fine home.” 

Beatrice looked at Joseph. “Really?” 

“Forgive my companion, she had a terrible fright when we faced the highwaymen.” 

“Highwaymen?,” a low voice scoffed. “There are no highwaymen in these woods. Now, ogres, far more likely.” 

“And this is my fiance, Gaston,” said Belle. 

Gaston looked Joseph over. “I suppose you couldn’t handle a few unruly peasants?” 

“On the contrary. I’ve never had any difficulty with hand to hand combat, I was just far more concerned with the safety of my companion.” 

“Companion? How?,” asked Maurice. 

“It’s complicated,” said Beatrice. 

“I find myself in her father’s service. I’m to escort her safely home.”  

“Her father just said she wasn’t a commodity,” said Beatrice. 

“Still, that doesn’t mean he won’t rip my heart out if anything were to happen to you.” 

“We have the ball tonight, Belle,” Maurice said in annoyance. 

“Then they can come as our guests,” said Belle. “Grandmother and Grandfather hosted them in Padua.” 

Maurice didn’t look as if he thought that was convincing enough of their social standing. “But the guest list has been set…” 

“Father,” Belle laughed, “two more guests will hardly put us out.” 

“Are the Duke and Duchess in attendance this evening?,” asked Joseph. 

“No,” Gaston said quickly. “They couldn’t travel.” 

“Since when?,” asked Beatrice.

“Belle, why don’t you see to your guests?,” Maurice said trailing off in a mumble. 

* * *

“Hey,” said Beatrice, stopping Joseph as they parted ways upstairs. 

“You’re atrocious undercover.” 

“Everyone here except my mom has tried to kill me. I’m doing the best I can.” She reached under her sweater and pulled out her pendant. She handed it to Joseph. “Keep this with you.” 

Joseph put it on over his head. “I won’t let go of it.” 

Beatrice entered Belle’s bedroom where a maid was just pulling up her corset. 

“Ah! God! Twice in a day!” 

Belle frowned. “I’m sorry?” 

Beatrice turned to face the other way, finding herself facing the gold gown. 

“Is this it? Is this the one?” 

She could recall her father telling the story, cloaked in so many secrets over the years. “And when the sorcerer first spotted the young maiden, she had sparkling blue eyes, beautiful brown hair and a gold gown that lit up the room. He soon knew what his price would be.” 

“The one what?,” asked Belle. 

“The one you’re wearing to the party?” 

“Oh, yes. Do you like it?” 

“I expected more poof.” 

“I’m a bit ambivalent about it. Gold’s not really my favorite.” 

“Wow…” Beatrice said slowly. Belle gave her a bewildered expression. “Just wow.” 

“My armoire has lots of gowns. Most of them I’ve only worn once,” said Belle. “You and I look as if we might be almost the same height.” 

Beatrice walked over and opened the doors. “You do have a lot of gowns.” She began pulling them out. “A lot of really nice gowns.” 

Belle shrugged as the maid kept lacing her corset. “Mama had an entire wardrobe made for me my first season. We went to all of the best balls in palaces throughout the land. Well, Papa put an end to it after she died.” 

“Why?” 

“Mama hoped I would find a husband, but I’ve been engaged to Gaston since I was a child. Nine, I think.” 

“You what?” Beatrice shook her head. “How could you never mention that?” 

She frowned again. “We did only just meet…” 

“Right. Sorry.” 

“How long have you and Sherlock been engaged?” 

“What? We’re not engaged. Who said we’re engaged?”

“My apologies. I just assumed… Is it because he’s from the lower classes?” Belle practically finished in a whisper. “Do your parents object?” 

“No, actually, you know, my dad started out like really super poor.”

“Really? And he was able to raise himself up so?” Belle took a seat at her vanity. “And your mother?” 

“Actually, my mother has just about the same position as you.” 

“What did her parents do?” 

“Not a whole lot really…” 

* * *

Joseph looked up to see Beatrice descending the staircase in a flowy ice blue gown. He took her hand at the bottom. 

“You look lovely.” 

She grimaced. “Just found this.” 

“Shall we go over your disguise?” 

“My disguise? What disguise?” 

“Precisely. You’re meant to be a well born lady of the Enchanted Forest-” 

“Which I am.” 

“Well…” 

“Well, what?” 

“You have a certain personality type, due to indulgent parents-” 

“You want to talk about who had indulgent parents?” 

“That’s the sort of bitingly sarcastic remark I’m alluding to.” 

“You wore your robe and pajamas to Granny’s. For a month.” 

“I just think perhaps in this case you might want to soften your  usual persona.” 

“Well, don’t marry me if you don’t like my usual persona.” 

“Of course you use that sarcasm as cover for internal strife-” 

“I don’t have any internal strife-” 

“You have been acting out of nothing but internal strife since you brought a dragon back from the dead.” 

“You were on drugs a week ago!” 

“A week and a half!” 

“What’s this?” Gaston approached. “A lover’s quarrel?” 

Beatrice rolled her eyes. 

“Lady Mary, I hope I can interest you in a dance later…” 

Beatrice turned and scoffed. “You wish.” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“As in, no.” 

Gaston frowned. “I don’t think you understood me, Lady Mary. I asked you to dance with me.” 

“And I said no.” 

“She’s in mourning,” said Joseph. 

“In that case, I suppose I can let it pass…” He looked past them. “Excuse me.” 

“I don’t need you to make excuses for me,” said Beatrice. 

“Did your parents never tell you what the Enchanted Forest was actually like?” 

“Ogres, pirates, ogres, ball, fairies, I get the idea.”

“Your mother is being married off to that man you despise-” 

“But she isn’t-” 

“But she doesn’t know that yet. Right now, her purpose, her whole life has been to secure a good match for Avonlea and that means marrying whomever makes the best offer, even if he’s the sort of man who can’t take no for an answer.” 

“This is my mom. I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.” 

“Are you certain?” 

Trumpets sounded. The party guests cleared the way for Belle as Gaston took her hand. She looked about as thrillled about that as putting her hand into a barrel of snakes, but she put on a smile anyway as the partygoers applauded. 

A shriek broke through the room, then another. They were quickly joined by a multitude as Beatrice and Joseph turned to see an ogre. The guests scattered, leaving destruction in their way. 

The ogre screamed and tore through the ballroom. Joseph grabbed Beatrice by the arm and pulled her into the next room amidst the fray of the other running party guests. 

“Where’s my mom?,” Beatrice asked, looking around. 

“I-” 

“Okay, we’re in the past, I have two parents I need to live if I want to be born. One’s an immortal sorcerer, one’s in the room with the ogre!” 

Beatrice ran back in as Joseph followed her. 

The ogre tore through the ballroom. Beatrice spotted Belle hidden under a banquet table as the ogre loomed. 

“I remember them being bigger,” she whispered. 

Joseph put his finger over his mouth, but found himself agreeing. This ogre was not full grown. 

He motioned at a table cloth from an overturned banquet table. Joseph grabbed one end and Beatrice the other as she slipped off her heels. As the ogre lunged towards Belle, they were able to lasso the tablecloth around, trapping the creature as it fell to the marble floor. 

Belle emerged from under the table. She looked at Beatrice and Joseph in astonishment. 

“You saved me.” 

“No matter,” said Beatrice. 

The ogre howled. Joseph looked back as he noticed red seeping through the tablecloth. 

“This ogre’s injured,” said Joseph. 

“What?,” asked Belle. 

“Did someone hurt him during the attack? Her? Them?,” asked Beatrice. “What pronouns do they like anyway?” 

Joseph handed Belle his end of the tablecloth. “Hold this. Carefully.” 

Belle did as he asked, as he carefully peeled back some of the fabric to see the ogre’s wounds. 

“These are old. They’re not from the attack. These have been endured over days, perhaps weeks.” 

“You mean someone’s been torturing him?,” asked Belle. 

“I’ll take it from here,” said Gaston, arriving with a sword. 

“Belle, thank the Gods you’re alright,” said Maurice. 

“Yeah, no thanks to you guys,” said Beatrice, earning glares from both men. 

“What’s this ogre doing here?,” Joseph mused, unconcerned that Beatrice had completely cast aside his rules of engagement for this adventure. “He’s too young to be out on his own.” 

“Does it matter?,” Gaston sneered. “This monster could have killed everyone here without a second thought.” 

“Hardly. He’s not even full grown and he was weakened before the attack. Look at these wounds. He was in pain before he ever came here.” 

“Well, I’ll put him out of his misery then,” said Gaston, drawing his sword back. 

“No!,” Belle cried, stepping in front of the creature. She turned to Maurice. “Papa, we have to find out what really happened here.” 

“What really happened here?,” Maurice repeated in disbelief. 

“Someone captured this ogre, tortured it and released it on the night of your daughter’s engagement ball,” said Joseph. “I’ll take the case.” 

“You’ll do what?,” asked Maurice. 

Beatrice looked up at Maurice. “He’ll take the case. It’s kind of like his thing.” 

“This is absurd,” Gaston exclaimed. “It’s a monster, it doesn’t have reasons.” 

Joseph stared at him. “No, Gaston, I think you’ll find all monsters have their reasons…” 

* * *

“Beatrice!,” Joseph whispered. 

She turned back to face him, casting a glance beside her as she met him down the hall. 

“You need to be careful.” 

“What? I can take care of myself.” 

“Yes, but as you so elegantly pointed out to me earlier this evening, we are in the past. You have two parents you need to live if you want to be born. One is an immortal sorcerer. One was left alone in a ballroom by her father and fiancé with a torture conditioned ogre.” 

“What? You think they’re trying to kill her?” 

“What is the one thing Sir Maurice has been trying to prevent? You and from the looks of things he’s running out of time.”  

Beatrice returned to the bedroom where Belle was already tucked away in bed. Of course she had shared a bed with her mother before. Belle had the habit of sleeping with her firstborn if she had a nightmare or didn’t feel well, usually clinging to her like something in a documentary about Great Apes. It did seem strange to have her back turned to her and a foot between them, but then again, they were meant to be strangers. 

“Mary?,” Belle asked, after nearly an hour. “Are you asleep?” 

“Not really.” That was an honest answer. She was facing the door, ready to launch a bolt of ice into the heart of anyone who walked through. 

“I knew it.” Belle turned over onto her back. “I don’t often get to have bedfellows. I never have my own guests. Always people that Papa invites. What about you?” 

“Well, my mom has this habit of sleeping in my bed…” 

Belle laughed. “My mother did the same thing, always when I felt unwell or had a bad dream…” She paused. “She died, almost two years ago. When I went to bed, she was perfectly well and then she fell ill so quickly… Your mother is still with you?” 

“Very much so.” 

“You don’t know how lucky you are. I used to get so angry with her, I thought she couldn’t possibly understand me. Now I wish I could speak with her more than anything. If only she could save me from this marriage…” 

“Save you?” Beatrice turned to face her mother. “So, you and Gaston aren’t… Then what… Why are you marrying the guy then?” 

“Why? Because it’s arranged.” 

“But you could say no.” 

“I have and no one has listened. No, lately, I have come to realize that the only thing this world wants out of me is to marry Gaston and bear his offspring. It’s the same for all noblewomen. Surely your parents have some match in mind for you.” 

“They do have a match in mind for me,” Beatrice said after careful consideration. “But it’s not like that.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“They think I should marry Sherlock because they think I would be happy.” 

Belle nodded. “But he hasn’t proposed?” 

“No. He’s proposed. Twice.” 

“But you don’t want to?” 

“I…” 

“Do you love him?” 

“Of course I love him!” 

“Then, forgive me. I don’t understand. Why don’t you want to marry him then?” 

“There are lots of reasons.” 

“And they are?” 

“I have them,” Beatrice insisted, pulling the covers over herself.

* * *

 

“Sherlock,” Beatrice called, looking over the bridge into the castle. “Sherlock!” 

“Down here!” 

Beatrice looked over into the ravine, Joseph was knee deep on the reeds and grass. She came around the edge of the bridge and found a ladder down. 

“What are you doing?” 

“You called me Sherlock.” 

“It’s your name and we are undercover. I could call you Shezza.” 

“I could call you Bea.” 

“Let’s not.” 

“Quite.” He nodded at the ground. “The ogre entered through the rear of the ballroom, stands to reason he came in through the rear of the castle, we should see footprints out here, crushed reeds and yet nothing.” 

“Because the ogre didn’t come here on his own.” 

“Precisely, now look here…” He motioned at a different series of tracks. “What does that look like to you?” 

“No idea.” 

“Well, you’re clever. You can figure it out.” 

“I don’t do the CSI thing.” 

Joseph rolled his eyes. “In the center here, hoof marks and here…” 

“Wheels…” 

“A horse pulling a wagon. That’s how the ogre arrived. Now we just need to decipher who brought him here…” 

“Right, well…” 

“And there’s only one person who can tell us that.” 

Beatrice shook her head. “Not following.” 

“The ogre.”

“You speak ogre now?” 

“It can’t be that hard.” 

“What might be that hard is getting to the ogre since Moe and Gaston locked him up in the dungeon.” 

“Oh, if only we knew someone with magical powers,” said Joseph. He looked pointedly at her. “Freeze the guards, walk in, speak to the ogre, leave, unfreeze them and no one is the wiser.” 

“You don’t speak ogre.” 

“I’ll manage.” 

* * *

They headed into the dungeon. Beatrice peered around the corner, spotting two of the guards and flicked her wrist. They froze solid. 

She walked over to the lock as Joseph followed. Another flick of the wrist froze the lock with it clunking to the ground. 

“Well done,” said Joseph. 

“You still don’t speak ogre. You’re Sherlock Holmes not the Doctor.” 

Joseph pushed opened the door, looking inside. 

“I doubt that will be a problem.” 

“What?” 

Joseph stepped inside the cell as Beatrice followed. The ogre lay dead on the floor of the cell. 

“They killed him,” said Beatrice. 

“Someone didn’t want him to talk.” 

“Yeah, we’re low on proof…”

“Oh, please, a dead ogre in Sir Maurice’s dungeon, under the supervision of Sir Maurice’s guards when we know Sir Maurice is the one with the motive to off his daughter or marry her off before she ever meets the Dark One-” 

“Sherlock,” said Beatrice. 

“Look at the entry wound-” 

“Sherlock, why would they guard a dead ogre?” 

He looked up at her, just as she was struck by an arrow. A wave of magic covered her. 

“I can’t move,” said Beatrice. 

Joseph stood. Gaston put his bow up. Maurice looked smug. 

“Squid ink. A gift from the Blue Fairy,” he boasted. “Did you really think we just believed Belle happened to run into you? Do you suppose us stupid?” 

“Yes, quite.” 

“I suppose this means the wedding will have to be moved up,” said Gaston. 

“Yes, I think it can all be arranged for tonight,” said Maurice. 

“You need to go,” Beatrice said quietly to Joseph. 

He looked at her in horror. “I’m not leaving you.” 

“I’m paralyzed with this stuff. I can’t move. You can and you can get her out of here.” 

“Just fight my way out then?” 

“Are you saying you can’t?” 

Joseph eyed the two men. “Well, one of them is quite fit, but the other looks two steps away from a heart attack and has some gout in his right foot already.” 

“Then it should be easy.” 

Joseph took a step forward, then stepped back. 

“This isn’t a True Love’s Kiss thing?” 

“It’s squid ink!” 

“I thought I ought to ask.” 

Joseph stepped forward. 

“There’s going to be a lot of blood, I’m afraid…” 

“The only blood will be yours, you-” 

Joseph smashed Gaston in the nose and as promised, blood came gushing out. As Gaston held his nose, screeching, Maurice stepped forward for what it was worth. Joseph elbowed him in the windpipe and the older man fell back to the floor. Joseph took the dagger off his belt. 

“If I find her hurt in any way when I return, I’m going to murder both of you. Slowly.”

* * *

 

Crying alone, Belle looked out to her window as she heard tapping. She opened it for Sherlock to come inside. 

“Sherlock,” Belle whispered. “What are you doing out there?” 

She went to lock the door to her bedroom. 

“Well, I had to make sure you were all right.” 

“Me? What about Mary?” 

“Mary? The woman you came here with? The one my father says is a witch who killed two of his men?” 

“Oh, Beatrice.” 

“Beatrice?” 

“In shorthand, things have pretty much gone to hell. Your fiancé used the ogre to attack your engagement ball to hasten your marriage so he could complete the annexation of your purported father’s kingdom-” 

“My purported father?” 

“Surprise, but then again he is a foot taller, then again, so is Merlin nearly, but really, your eyes are much closer.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Your hidden parentage. The way I see it, there are two scenarios, the first is that you run away with me.” 

Belle frowned. “I marry Gaston tonight, Father just told me.” 

“Yes, precisely and we know what happens if you do that. Gaston takes you as his wife and certain privileges that go with that, meaning that when your people call upon the Dark One in a few weeks time, you’ll be another man’s wife and possibly carrying his child. That means he won’t ask for you as his price and  you’ll possibly be too full of Gaston’s spawn to have Beatrice. There are a number of problems with this scenario. I’ll take you to the Dark Castle, introduce you two and go from there, possibly waiting through the Dark Curse to stop myself traveling back in time… again. I saw it on a Doctor Who. So, what do you say?” 

Belle’s eyes widened and she turned to the door. “Guard!” 

Joseph jumped forward and grabbed Belle, placing a handkerchief dipped in a potion over her nose and mouth. 

“The second scenario is essentially the same only it starts with me kidnapping you…”

* * *

 

“Where has he taken her?!”    
  


Beatrice awoke, tied to a chair. Gaston and Maurice were both in her face. 

“Have you guys tried brushing your teeth? Or a mint? Something?” 

“Where has he taken Belle, you witch?,” demanded Maurice. 

“How should I know? I’ve been here?” She tried to flick her hands. “Did you guys reapply the squid ink?”

Gaston turned to Maurice. “We should ask her what she knows about the Dark Princess.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Gaston sneered at her. “We know you’re working for Merlin to help him with his plan for the Dark Princess. We have ways of making you telling us everything you know about her.” 

Beatrice snorted. “Okay, yeah, sure, wouldn’t want that. I will tell you everything I know about the Dark Princess. Have you got a pen and some paper?” 

“What?,” asked Maurice. 

“Because I know a lot. It all starts on a dark and stormy night in the autumn. Her birth certificate says October twenty-third, but it’s like the second full harvest moon or something. Anyway, the storm-  which is really a tempest- covers the Enchanted Forest… I wonder if it gets to Agrabah, I should ask. Do you guys want to get chairs because I know a lot?” 

“Do you know what Merlin’s plan is?” 

“I know Merlin gives her a stuffed lamb. I call it Gyro, you wouldn’t get that-” 

“What plans does he have for this realm?” 

“I am so obviously getting to that,” said Beatrice.

* * *

 

Joseph rode the horse into the forest. Belle stirred on the back. 

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” 

“What? Where are we?” 

“Nearly past the Half Sunk Kingdom now so really no sense in trying to head back to home.”

Belle looked down. “You took my horse!” 

“I thought you’d be pleased.” 

“I’d be more pleased if I wasn’t kidnapped!” 

“I see. The wedding would have been finished by now. Would you be more pleased in Gaston’s bed?” 

Belle was silent. 

“So there we are.” 

The horse froze, they nearly fell off. 

“Phillippe?,” asked Belle. “What’s wrong, boy?” 

“He’s fine…” A voice boomed out. “You on the other hand, sunshine, I hope you like your heart getting ripped out and torn into confetti.” 

“Merlin!,” Joseph exclaimed. “Thank God. It’s Merlin.” 

Merlin stepped out of the shadows, flipping back his cloak. 

“And who might you be?” 

“Sherlock Holmes.” 

Merlin frowned. “You seem twenty years too old for that.” 

Joseph dismounted, helping Belle down. “Time travel.”

“No one can travel through time.”

“You mean you don’t know?” 

“Know what?” 

Joseph reached under his cravat and pulled off Beatrice’s pendant. “I have this.” 

“Why do you have my mother’s pendant?!,” Belle accused. 

“No, I have the Dark Princess’ pendant, given to her by her mother, you.” 

“I don’t have a child!” 

“Well, not with that attitude,” said Merlin. He looked at Joseph. “You’re with the Dark Princess?”

“No, Maurice and Gaston have taken her prisoner. Then they moved up the wedding.” 

“So, you…” 

“Kidnapped her.” 

“Naturally.” 

“What is going on?!,” Belle shouted. 

“And where is the Dark Princess now?” 

“Back at the castle.” 

“You left her?,” sneered Merlin. “What the hell do we even keep you around for? Some hero you are!” 

“She was covered in squid ink, she couldn’t move, I had to save Belle.” 

“I demand you answer me now!,” Belle shouted. 

Merlin looked to Joseph. “Her mother used to give me that shout…” 

“What is all this discussion of a Dark Princess and saving me from my wedding-” 

“Your father tried to have you killed,” said Joseph. “He’s part of a secret society, bound to destroy the Dark Princess at all costs. The engagement ball was the perfect setting to announce the alliance between Avonlea and LeFleur, then you would be tragically killed by an ogre. Those two could declare war on the ogres and eliminate the threat in one fell swoop.” 

Belle furrowed her brow. “No, you’re wrong, my father loves me-” 

“Does he?,” asked Joseph. “Does he really? Can you recall a time when your affection was returned? When you were warmly regarded?” 

“Even if I believe that, what do I have to do with the Dark Princess?”

“You’re her mother,” said Merlin. 

Belle stepped back. “Gaston?” 

“No,” said Merlin. “The Dark Princess is the product of the longest line of True Love in the Enchanted Forest. Soon you’ll meet her father and well… I’d rather not go into every detail.” 

“The most powerful man in all the realms,” said Belle. 

“What?,” asked Joseph. 

“A seer. She once said that’s who I would find True Love with.” 

Merlin shrugged. “She might have missed a detail here and there…” 

“Such as?” 

Merlin walked over. “Once upon a time…” He placed a finger to her forehead and Belle swooned, falling into his arms. “The end.” 

“What now?,” asked Joseph. 

“We ought to save your princess.”

* * *

 

“So, that was fourth grade,” Beatrice finished. “Birds. Lots of birds. The Dark Princess has a garage full of birdhouses. You guys want one?” 

Gaston looked to Maurice. “Do you suppose she’s mad?” 

“Tell us what you know,” Maurice demanded. 

“Well, I do know one thing…” 

“Which is?” 

The ropes clanged to the floor as they shattered into ice. 

“You should have put the squid ink on again.” 

Throwing an arm up, Beatrice knocked Gaston back into the wall, then Maurice. She stood and walked over. 

“So, let’s just summarize, the ogre was a setup, to kill Belle, unite your armies and start a war with the ogres? Why?”

“The Dark One.” 

Beatrice nodded. “Because he’s your ogre guy, but only one thing kills him, who’s going to stab him?” 

“I was deemed worthy of the power,” said Gaston. 

She snorted. “Seriously? You? Was there anyone else running?”

“You’ll never win. The Dark Princess will be stopped before she can reign destruction upon this realm,” said Maurice. 

“I just wanted to watch TV today!,” Beatrice shouted. 

“Your patter needs work.” 

Beatrice turned to see Merlin and Joseph. 

Merlin shook his head. “I liked the magic part. That was all good and time travel, I really did not see that one coming which is as you can imagine a bit unusual for me. You need to work on your speeches, though. People like speeches.” 

“People are idiots.” 

“Aww…” He looked to Joseph. “See that? She sounds just like her father.” 

“Who are you?,” demanded Maurice. 

“Merlin. I used to sleep with your wife. In this room as a matter of fact-” 

“Oh my God!,” shrieked Beatrice. “What is wrong with this family?”

“Not to mention the whole pesky timeline issue,” said Joseph. “I may have mentioned it.” 

“Oh, that, I’m sorting that. I’m going to cast a memory spell and invent some story about an ogre and I may throw in a magic mirror. You know, a plot device to be discarded at my whim. These two and the rest of the kingdom will know even less than they do now.” 

“No one insults Gaston!”

“Yet here we find ourselves,” said Merlin. 

“And my mom?” 

“Affected by the memory spell like the rest.” Merlin outstretched his palm, the time travel spell in it. “Your friend here told me where I could find this.” 

Beatrice looked at it, not touching. “But I need to talk to my mom.” 

“I don’t think you need to talk to the woman upstairs.” 

Beatrice took the box, she looked at Joseph and held out her hand. 

“Ready?” 

He answered wordlessly, placing his hand in hers. 

The two disappeared 

Merlin turned to Maurice and Gaston. “Now, before I go, I think I’m going to screw around with you two some more and write things on your foreheads. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”  

* * *

 

Later… 

“I can put her to sleep.”

Belle didn’t answer, still staring at the newborn in her arms. 

“Belle?,” asked Rumplestiltskin. 

“Rumple…” Belle looked up at him. “Will you promise me something? For the baby?” 

“Anything.” 

“And I want you to hold to it, even if something happens to me, no matter the price.” 

He frowned at her. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, Belle-” 

“No, I-” She tried to gather her thoughts. “My mother thought she could always protect me and she died and she couldn’t. I need your word, Rumple.” 

He sat back down on the bed. “What then?” 

“Promise me that Beatrice will be free to be whoever she likes, to have her own adventures, to marry whom she loves, that you won’t take any of that from her.” 

“Oh, sweetheart…” He caressed her cheek. 

“Please? Promise me she’ll never be part of a deal or an arranged marriage.” 

He smiled. “Our Beatrice will have every opportunity she wishes. No one decides her fate but her.”

* * *

 

Now…

Beatrice and Joseph fell on the ground. 

“Are you going to work on that at some point?” 

“Well, it’s better than Zelena’s pillar of fire…” 

They stood and dusted the snow off themselves. 

“I do believe we were discussing something before we traveled back in time,” said Joseph. 

“Yeah, well, I…” She found her phone in the bodice of her dress. “I’ve got to charge this.” 

“Beatrice.” 

“Yeah?,” she cringed. 

He took her pendant from around his neck and held it out. 

“Thanks and I will… get back to you on the other thing…” 

Beatrice bolted. 

Hero dozed off as Belle sang softly. 

“Rest your head, close to my heart, never to part, baby of mine…” 

“Mom?”

Belle looked up. “Shh, she’s just out, she-” She paused. “Beatrice? What are you wearing? I used to have a gown just like that one.” 

Beatrice hurried over and threw her arms around her mother. “I’m sorry, Mommy.” 

“What?” Belle returned the hug, carding her fingers through her long dark locks “That’s okay. What are you sorry for?” 

“Being a bitch, mostly…”  She looked at her mother. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about you and Gaston?” 

“What’s to know?” 

“You were engaged when you were a kid? It was just a deal? Your dad didn’t care-” 

“Who told you all that?” Belle looked at the dress. “You did it again, didn’t you?” 

“Kind of.” 

Belle smiled. “I wanted you to have a different life, one where you were free to choose your own life. Your father and I both did.You never needed to worry about that.Come here.” Belle led her to her feet at the rocking chair. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on? Hmm?” 

Beatrice placed her chin on her mother’s lap, staring into space. “I’m scared.” 

“Well, I might have guessed… What scares you?” 

She looked up at Belle. “Everything ends. Everyone dies except…” 

“You’re worried about Joseph dying first because you have magic?” 

“And there was a movie where Ian McKellen played him and had dementia. I’m not crazy about that either.” 

“Sweetheart, that’s so far away. You can’t spend your whole life worrying about when things are going to end, being too frightened to start anything. Everything will end whether you want it to or not, never starting anything won’t stop that.” 

Beatrice shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“No one does.” 

Beatrice laid her head back down. Belle began running her fingers through her hair again. 

“Did you tell Joseph anything yet?” 

“I basically said I’d get back to him.” 

“Do you want to know what I think?” 

Beatrice mumbled which her mother took as a yes. 

“Your True Love isn’t going anywhere. He will wait as long as it takes. And I think you are a woman free to decide for as long as you need to…” Belle smiled and turned Beatrice to face her. “Because that’s all I really want for you.”


End file.
